Vanity Fair - Page 263/573

"Les moustaches," gasped Joe; "les moustaches--coupy, rasy, vite!"--his

French was of this sort--voluble, as we have said, but not

remarkable for grammar.

Isidor swept off the mustachios in no time with the razor, and heard

with inexpressible delight his master's orders that he should fetch a

hat and a plain coat. "Ne porty ploo--habit militair--bonn--bonny a

voo, prenny dehors"--were Jos's words--the coat and cap were at last

his property.

This gift being made, Jos selected a plain black coat and waistcoat

from his stock, and put on a large white neckcloth, and a plain beaver.

If he could have got a shovel hat he would have worn it. As it was, you

would have fancied he was a flourishing, large parson of the Church of

England.

"Venny maintenong," he continued, "sweevy--ally--party--dong la roo."

And so having said, he plunged swiftly down the stairs of the house,

and passed into the street.

Although Regulus had vowed that he was the only man of his regiment or

of the allied army, almost, who had escaped being cut to pieces by Ney,

it appeared that his statement was incorrect, and that a good number

more of the supposed victims had survived the massacre. Many scores of

Regulus's comrades had found their way back to Brussels, and all

agreeing that they had run away--filled the whole town with an idea of

the defeat of the allies. The arrival of the French was expected

hourly; the panic continued, and preparations for flight went on

everywhere. No horses! thought Jos, in terror. He made Isidor inquire

of scores of persons, whether they had any to lend or sell, and his

heart sank within him, at the negative answers returned everywhere.

Should he take the journey on foot? Even fear could not render that

ponderous body so active.

Almost all the hotels occupied by the English in Brussels face the

Parc, and Jos wandered irresolutely about in this quarter, with crowds

of other people, oppressed as he was by fear and curiosity. Some

families he saw more happy than himself, having discovered a team of

horses, and rattling through the streets in retreat; others again there

were whose case was like his own, and who could not for any bribes or

entreaties procure the necessary means of flight. Amongst these

would-be fugitives, Jos remarked the Lady Bareacres and her daughter,

who sate in their carriage in the porte-cochere of their hotel, all

their imperials packed, and the only drawback to whose flight was the

same want of motive power which kept Jos stationary.

Rebecca Crawley occupied apartments in this hotel; and had before this

period had sundry hostile meetings with the ladies of the Bareacres

family. My Lady Bareacres cut Mrs. Crawley on the stairs when they met

by chance; and in all places where the latter's name was mentioned,

spoke perseveringly ill of her neighbour. The Countess was shocked at

the familiarity of General Tufto with the aide-de-camp's wife. The

Lady Blanche avoided her as if she had been an infectious disease.

Only the Earl himself kept up a sly occasional acquaintance with her,

when out of the jurisdiction of his ladies.